Within the hearts of heroes small and great There 'bides a tenderness for weakling things Within thy heart, the sorrowing country knows These passions, bravest and the tenderest mate. When man is dust, before the gazing eyes Of all the gaping throng, his life lies wide For all to see and whisper low about Or let their thoughts in discord's clatter rise. But thine was pure and undefiled, A record of long brilliant, teeming days, Each thought did tend to further things, But pure as the proverbial child. Oh, people, that thy grief might find express To gather in some vast cathedral's hall, That then in unity we might kneel and hear Sublimity in sounds, voice our distress. Peace, peace, the men of God cry, ye be bold, The world hath known, 'tis Heaven who claims him now, And in our railings we but cast aside The noble traits he bid us hold. So though divided through the land, in dreams We see a people kneeling low, Bowed down in heart and soul to see This fearful sorrow, crushing as it seems. And all the grand cathedral silence falls Into the hearts of these that worship low, Like tender waves of hushed nothingness, Confined, nor kept by human earthly walls. A STORY OF VENGEANCE. Yes, Eleanor, I have grown grayer. I am younger than you, you know, but then, what have you to age you? A kind husband, lovely children, while I--I am nothing but a lonely woman. Time goes slowly, slowly for me now. Why did I never marry? Move that screen a little to one side, please; my eyes can scarcely bear a strong light. Bernard? Oh, that's a long story. I'll tell you if you wish; it might pass an hour. Do you ever think to go over the old school-days? We thought such foolish things then, didn't we? There wasn't one of us but imagined we would have only to knock ever so faintly on the portals of fame and they would fly wide for our entrance into the magic realms. On Commencement night we whispered merrily among ourselves on the stage to see our favorite planet, Venus, of course, smiling at us through a high, open window, "bidding adieu to her astronomy class," we said. Then you went away to plunge into the most brilliant whirl of society, and I stayed in the beautiful old city to work. Bernard was very much _en evidence_ those days. He liked you a great deal, because in school-girl parlance you were my "chum." You say,--thanks, no tea, it reminds me that I'm an old maid; you say you know what happiness means--maybe, but I don't think any living soul could experience the joy I felt in those days; it was absolutely painful at times.